


A Sheep in Wolf’s clothing

by AWalkingParadox



Series: Silent Scream [1]
Category: Hamilton - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:06:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWalkingParadox/pseuds/AWalkingParadox
Summary: When Thomas’s father goes a little too far.





	A Sheep in Wolf’s clothing

•—•  
The salt of the sweat mingled with the gashes, stinging. The bandages chafed but at least they offered some comfort. But there were never enough.  
Thomas clenched his fists, trying to focus on the quiz, trying to ignore the burning pain he felt around his body.   
His dad had been drunk, more than usual, and Thomas bore the brunt of his anger. As usual.  
He could feels some of the glass shards dig deeper into his skin, but it grew numb. That was never a good sign.  
The bell rang, signalling lunch. He looked down at his paper, all that marked it were frantic scribbles that made zero sense.  
He was going to fail the quiz. That’ll be another beating.  
Thomas sighed, standing slowly. White hot pain flared in his chest. His ribs must be broken. He gritted his teeth, trying to see through the tears.   
The classroom was empty, everyone had already left. He exhaled in relief. Maybe he could catch his breath.  
Last night was sudden. He had thought that maybe his father wouldn’t come home that night. That for once, he would sleep peacefully. That changed when he was ripped out of his bed and thrown into the floor, aggravating some of the recent bruises. Which hurt. A lot. His father had stumbled in, an empty glass bottle in hand, reeking of alcohol. His voice was like thunder.  
“THOMAS!” Thomas jumped, tripping over his feet and landing on the ground, his hands held before him as an act of defence. The classroom swam before his eyes, and black spots danced in his vision.  
“Oh crud—sorry!” Thomas looked up blearily, seeing the face of James Madison, worry evident. The boy kept rambling. “It’s just that you were crying and clenching your fists and they were bleeding and I—“  
“James. One moment. Could you stop talking for a bit? I have a splitting headache.” Thomas groaned.  
James clammed up, questions burning in his eyes. Thomas closed his eyes, breathing in and out, trying to calm his racing heart. “Alright.” He muttered, opening his eyes.  
“You alright? I mean, you’re obviously not alright, but it seems worse than usual. You sure you don’t wanna go to the infirmary? Or stay at my house tonight?” James asked helplessly. “I don’t see why you won’t tell anyone about this.”  
“I told you.” Thomas coughed. “I can’t leave mom alone with that monster.”  
“Then bring her with you. Come stay at my house.” James begged. “My mom loves you. You don’t need to go back there and be treated like-like an animal!”   
“Quiet!” Thomas hissed. “Someone’s coming.” With a tremendous amount of effort, he staggered to his feet, just as Washington walked in.  
“Mr. Jefferson? Mr. Madison? Why are you still here? Lunch is almost over.”  
“Got held up by homework, Mr. Washington.” Thomas said smoothly, “lost track of time.”  
“I see.” His eyes flickered over to Thomas’s wrists, where bandages were just peeking from under the jacket sleeve. Thomas hid them behind his back. “Better get going, then. You still have fifteen minutes.”  
“Thank you, sir.” Thomas nodded as they headed towards the door.  
“Oh, and Thomas? You know I’m here if you ever need to talk.”  
Thomas swallowed. “Of course, sir.”  
-•-  
Thomas hissed in pain as someone bumped past him. Each step felt as if he was walking barefoot on barbed wire.   
Everything hurt.   
“Thomas?” James whispered. “We can take a break, y’know. We’ve still got like thirty minutes before the next bell. And Adams like you, he’ll let a tardy slide.”  
“No.” Thomas shook his, wincing. “I’ll be fine.” He walked on stubbornly, James sighing in defeat.  
Thomas grasped the door of the classroom weakly, pushing it open. Great. Hamilton and his friends were already there.  
He rolled his eyes, walking past them.   
They were roughhousing again, something Thomas would never understand. Hercules shoved Lafayette, causing him him to stumble back and bump Thomas. Right at the freaking chest.  
Thomas choked, crumpling to the ground. He felt a painful squeeze around his chest as he started coughing. There was dark red stuff on his hands. Blood, he realised.  
“Fu—Thomas!” James cried, rushing to his side.   
“Jefferson?” Thomas looked up through tear-filled eyes, seeing Hamilton’s pale face staring down at him.   
“Not now, Hamilton.” Thomas rasped, trying to draw in a breath. Nope, not working, ow.   
“Right. Er—want me to call the nurse?” Hamilton looked terrified. Thomas was in too much pain to wonder why. But his words did register in Thomas’s muddled brain.  
“What? No! Hamilton, don’t!” He pleaded, darkness tugging at the edge of his vision. “Please.”   
Hamilton nodded, looking unsure. “Stop trying to take a deep breath. Take shallow ones.” He said softly. “The blood is probably because your lungs have been hit. Not too hard or you wouldn’t be able to breathe at all. It’ll heal.”  
Thomas did as he said, breathing shallowly, closing his eyes to calm himself down. Breathing was way easier this way. He opened his eyes. “Thanks.” Thomas said in surprise.  
“You okay?” James asked, staring at the blood on the floor that Lafayette and John were trying to mop up.  
Thomas nodded, feeling a bit dizzy. “You’re gonna need to take serious look at that.” Hercules frowned. “Good thing your jacket’s dark enough to hide the bloodstains. You okay to stand?”  
“Yeah.” Lafayette and Hercules helped him up, seeing as they were the only ones tall enough to do so.  
“Thanks.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t have to do all that, but thanks.”  
“Of course we did.” Hamilton insisted. “I’m not a heartless bastard.”  
“Debatable.” James muttered under his breath.  
Hamilton shot him a dark look. “Better hurry. I can hear students coming.”  
Thomas nodded, heading to a seat at the back. “You can sit at the front, you know.” He whispered to James. “I’m staying with you.” James shot back.   
“You won’t be able to see anything.” Thomas warned, smiling faintly.  
“I’ve already done this month’s homework and studied two weeks worth of lessons advance. I’m fine.” James replied.  
“Fine.” Thomas sat in his seat, leaning forward and resting his head on his arms. “I’m gonna sleep.”  
“You never sleep.” James said, a teasing lilt in his voice. Thomas had missed the way his eyes clouded with worry.  
“There’s a first time for everything.” Thomas answered, watching as the classroom filled up with students. Mr. Adams was running late again, of course.  
“Right.” James said sceptically. “Rest well.”  
“Mhm.”  
-•-  
“Thomas.” James whispered, nudging his shoulder gently.  
“Wha-?” Thomas groaned, lo King around groggily.   
“Class is over.” James replied. “Come on, you need some fresh air.”  
“Of course I do.” He drawled sarcastically. “You woke me up for this?”  
“No, for this.” A small, crumpled piece of paper was placed in his hands. 

Jefferson, come see as at the football field. Come as soon as you can, but don’t strain yourself. I wouldn’t want you to fall over and die.  
Hamilton.

“What’s that about?” James frowned. “Maybe....”  
“He knows.” Fear gripped his heart. “He knows enough, at least.”  
“Oh. Maybe we can convince him otherwise?” James said halfheartedly. Part of him was glad someone else knew. Maybe they would have the courage to do what he couldn’t.  
“We can’t. You know Hamilton. All we can do is to convince them to keep their mouth shut.” Thomas muttered.  
“Let’s do that then.” James tried for a smile. “How hard can it be?”  
-•-  
“YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?” Hamilton yelled.  
“Shh! Quiet!” Thomas hissed, hugging his jacket closer. “Someone might hear!”  
Hamilton snorted, looking around at the deserted field. “I highly doubt that.”  
“I don’t understand why you won’t tell anyone, Thomas.” Lafayette frowned. “This isn’t right.”  
“This is the only thing that protects my mom.” Thomas growled.  
“I could go over there and pound your dad to pulp.” Hercules offered.  
“No.” Thomas said firmly. “The last friend I had over was held at knifepoint.”  
“What!” Laurens yelped. “You’re dad’s crazy!”  
“Not crazy, just drunk.” Thomas averted his eyes.”You shouldn’t defend him.” James says gently.  
Thomas stayed silent.  
Hamilton nodded, as if proving a point. “You are not going home today.”  
“What? Of course I am.” Thomas argued. “Or else my dad’ll target my mom!”  
“We can sneak her out.” Laurens offered, patting Hercules on the back. “This guy’s as quiet as a cat at night.”  
“That’s settled then.” Hamilton grinned, despite Thomas’s protests. “Slow down. You might hurt yourself.”  
“I can take care of myself just fine.” Thomas retorted, wincing. Okay, maybe not.  
“Right.....” hamilton rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Washington would love to house you.” He smirked.   
“Washington?” Thomas yelped, then proceeded to mutter ‘ow’ a few times.   
“Yeah. My foster father. Your teacher. The great George Washington.” Hamilton said dramatically.  
“I can’t! He’ll find out.” Thomas groaned.  
“I think he already knows.” Lafayette chirped.   
“Damn.”   
“Yep!” Hamilton grins cheerfully.  
-•-  
Apparently, when injuries are left unattended, they get worse. Especially broken ribs. Especially in crowded hallways where you get jostled every 1.2 seconds.   
Thomas hissed in pain, sweat dripping down his brow. He was pretty sure he was going to pass out.   
“Just a little left to go.” James murmured at his side.  
“Hold on.” Thomas rasped, leaning against the wall, coughing. There goes some more blood. He was pretty sure this isn’t something he should ignore.  
He wipes it away, making sure not to let anyone see. Black and white and grey dances in his vision.  
He made it out to a secluded area where Washington’s car was parked before collapsing.  
The last thing he saw and heard was Alexander Hamilton staring down at him grimly, “I thought you weren’t a princess, Jefferson, yet here you are fainting on me.”  
Then he succumbed to darkness.  
•—•

**Author's Note:**

> So. Any feedback?


End file.
